


with cake in your pocket

by victoria_p (musesfool)



Category: Dark Angel
Genre: 4 Things, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 11:29:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14019300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/victoria_p
Summary: In which Alec woos Max with heists.





	with cake in your pocket

[one.]

Max knows she should say no when Alec tells her the plan. It's dangerous and stupid and couldn't be pulled off by normal people. She should say no to stealing at all, but mobsters are bad guys, and they need the money. There are more transgenics arriving in Terminal City every day, and some of them are pregnant, some have special dietary requirements, and some are injured. Plus, there's always something breaking down or blowing up, and it's not like Terminal City wasn't a toxic waste dump to begin with. Just keeping the place running is more expensive than she ever would have believed, and the only government assistance they can expect is the kind that comes with handcuffs to start and long-term incarceration (if not outright execution) to finish. They're still technically under siege, though the National Guard has pulled back, and she spends a couple of days a week in negotiations with the city and the feds just to keep it that way. 

So she _should_ say no, but she doesn't. Instead she asks, "If the take from this job is so great, why hasn't anybody done it before?"

Alec scoffs. "Nobody in their right mind would cross these guys by knocking over their weekly poker game. They're high level bosses from five of Seattle's biggest gangs."

Max frowns and crosses her arms over her chest. "And how do you know about it?"

"A couple of them were big Monty Cora fans. They invited me to play, but I couldn't make it." He gives her one of those half-grins he thinks are so charming. "You know how busy my schedule is, Max. You're the one taking up all my time."

"Someone's gotta keep you out of trouble."

"And you're just the girl for that." He tips her an exaggerated wink.

She sniffs disdainfully. "You wish."

"You can't have it both ways, Max," he says impishly, but then he gets serious before she can respond. "If you're not up for it, I can get someone else to go, but I'd feel better with you watching my back."

It's only the truth and that shouldn't warm her the way it does, but she flushes with pleasure at his words. 

"All right," she says, ignoring the warmth in her chest, "but no skimming off the top. It all goes to TC."

"Of course," he replies, looking offended. "I'm kind of a dick sometimes but I'm not an asshole."

Max can't help it—she laughs. "As long as you admit it, I guess it's okay."

The smile he gives her then is bright and sincere and she feels hot and tingly all over, like her skin is suddenly too tight. Then she wonders if her heat's coming early. It can't just be Alec's smile doing it for her. She refuses to accept that.

*

The job goes off without a hitch--the mobsters don't know what's, or more importantly, who's hit them, and they turn on each other while Max and Alec bounce with the cash. Max feels more alive than she has in weeks, and she laughs as they chase each other over rooftops and across alleys through the rainy darkness to where their bikes are stashed for the ride back to Terminal City. 

The money goes towards food and medicine, Alec's network of contacts once again coming through for them when more legit methods fail.

Two nights later, she finds him in her favorite rooftop spot. He offers her a beer and she takes it with a wry twist to her mouth. 

"That was good work," she says after a long sip.

"I know," he replies. He tilts his head in acknowledgment. "Couldn't have done it without you."

And maybe the beer's mellowing her out, or maybe she's just glad that for once, no one in Terminal City will go to bed hungry, but she just smiles and repeats it back to him. "I know."

*

[two.]

"I've got the answer to your problem," Alec says, swinging out of nowhere and getting in her way.

"I doubt that," she replies without missing a beat. It's just so easy to fall into rhythm with him--even now, their strides sync up without thought as they walk from the command center to her apartment.

"You're worried about missing OC's birthday bash at Crash, and also what to get her, though you know she'd consider your presence her--present." He gives her a lopsided grin, pleased with himself, because he knows he's not wrong, even though she wishes he was.

She can't tell him that, of course. "And you can fix this so-called problem of mine?" 

He dips his head and whispers, his mouth much too close to her ear, "I can fix any problem you've got, Maxie." He dances out of the way before she can smack his arm in retaliation for the nickname. She ignores the way his warm breath on her skin makes her belly quiver.

She gives him a skeptical look. "So what's your answer?"

He pulls out a Nordstrom catalogue out of his back pocket and flaps it at her.

Max crosses her arms over her chest and cocks a hip. "Really?" 

"She loves all that girly crap. And so do you, even if you won't admit it."

"Only because it makes her happy," Max mumbles, which is the truth. Mostly. She misses getting pretty with her girls, misses the days when everything was simple, when she was just a freak trying to make it on her own, instead of the leader of Freak Nation with a bullseye on her back. Still, once again, he's not wrong, and she does have some money squirreled away for this occasion. Not enough to buy more than a new lipstick at Nordstrom's prices, but it's the thought that counts, right? 

And a thought is all it should be. She shouldn't even be considering it; the only time they leave TC these days is to go on supply runs. She hasn't even done a job for Logan in months, and saving the world should be a higher priority than Original Cindy's birthday.

But she misses Cindy way more than she misses Logan. Not that she'd ever admit it to anyone, except maybe Cindy. So fuck _should._

Decision made, she reaches out to grab the catalogue and Alec lifts it up above his head. "Ah, ah, not so fast." 

"Alec," she growls. "I will beat your ass."

He laughs. "And I might let you, but--"

" _Let_ me?" She lunges and he scrambles out of the way, not even bothering to blur, making it easy for her to snatch the catalogue out of his hand when she feints a punch at his nuts and he curls over to protect himself. "I think you must enjoy it, the way you set yourself up all the time."

He looks startled for just a second before his expression turns smug and amused. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"I really wouldn't." She skims the catalogue so she doesn't have to keep looking at him, doesn't have to figure out what that flash in his eyes means. Then she rolls it up and slaps it against her palm. "It doesn't matter anyway. Even if I had the cash, I can't get to the store, let alone show up at Crash."

"Didn't I just say I could solve all your problems?"

"Did you? You know I don't listen to most of what you say."

He places a hand over his heart. "I'm wounded, Max. You wound me. Deeply." He gives her the most fake sad face she's ever seen, lower lip pushed out on a pout. Part of her wants to bite it. She slaps that part down hard and pretends it doesn't exist.

"Yeah, whatever, Alec. What's your brilliant solution?"

His answering grin is blindingly bright, and oh, she might be in more trouble than she ever thought possible with him.

*

"Vintage Dior, Max?" Original Cindy looks at the lipstick in her hand and then back at Max, eyebrow raised skeptically. "Not that I don't love it, but I know you don't got the money for that."

"It's from Alec, too," Max replies with a hesitant smile. She settles at the foot of Cindy's bed. "He had some cash stashed near Crash...." She trails off into a helpless laugh. "It sounded even more ridiculous when he told me." In addition to all my other talents, Maxie, I'm a poet, he'd said, and she'd laughed at his nonsense, just like he'd meant her to. She shakes her head. "Anyway, most of the money went to fund TC, but we had a little left over, and I'd been saving up for your birthday, so. Yeah."

"Your boy's good people," she says, "and he's welcome to buy me pretty things anytime." She carefully applies the lipstick even though she's probably just going to go back to sleep once Max leaves.

"It looks great."

Cindy grins at her. "Of course it does." Then her smile fades. "He taking good care of you, boo? Or do I have to come down to Terminal City and knock some sense into him?"

Max draws up her legs and wraps her arms around them, setting her chin on her knees. "He's--" She huffs softly. "So far, he's risen to every occasion. I keep waiting for him to go back to being a dumbass but he's really stepped up." She can't meet Cindy's gaze. "I couldn't run TC without him."

Cindy hums in approval. "Good. It's about time you started appreciating that boy." Her expression softens. "You know he'd do anything for you."

Max snorts in protest, but it's half-hearted. "I don't know. Maybe you're right."

"No maybe about it, Max. I'm always right."

Max laughs and leans in for a hug. She breathes in the scent of Cindy's shampoo and moisturizer, and clings tightly to her. These visits are always too short, with too much time in between.

"Be careful," Cindy says as Max goes out her window.

Max gives her a grin that's only slightly strained. "Always."

Right now, it's not the rest of the world that worries her. It's her own feelings that are going to cause her trouble.

*

[three.]

The flood of transgenics streaming into Terminal City slows down after a couple of months. There are more of them than Max ever expected, and yet still not many at all, considering the number of enemies they have. Max never stops hoping Syl and Krit and her other siblings will show up, but so far, that hasn't happened.

One rainy morning, Alec shows up in Max's office with a data stick and a serious look on his face.

"What?" she asks.

He hands it over and she plugs it into her laptop. When she's done skimming the file, she says, "Prisoner transfer?"

Alec nods.

"Transgenics?"

"At least two," he says, resting a hip on the edge of her desk. "X5-151, and X6-896." He taps the keyboard and two mugshots appear. "X5-151 is the one I was hoping to find. The other one's just a bonus."

She looks up at him, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Remember Brain?"

"You mean Brian?"

Alec waves a hand. "Whatever, you know who I mean."

"Yeah."

"X5-151 is like him, except with science."

"Science?" Max is not an idiot; she knows where this is going, but she plays along anyway.

"Molecular biochemistry, in fact, with a sideline in pharmacology."

Max feels like the air in her lungs has frozen. She'd given up hope for a cure months ago, shortly after she'd made Logan leave Terminal City before he got killed, either by the toxins or by her exposed skin. She can barely remember what it's like to even _want_ it, let alone expect to actually get it.

"That's--that's great, Alec." She licks her lips and wonders if that sounded too sincere, or not sincere enough. 

Either way, something's off, because he frowns in concern and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

She slaps the hand away and then, absurdly, misses its warmth against her skin. Alec's never been afraid to touch her, though sometimes he probably should be.

"Yeah," she says with a smile that feels fake. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. We still have to get them away from the government."

"You have a plan, though." She even sounds hopeful, which is more than she's managed in months.

"I have a plan," he says, grinning, eyes bright. "I'm gonna need your help."

"Of course," she replies. "I wouldn't let anyone else watch your back."

He shoots her a surprised--pleased--look, and then starts calling up other files from the data stick, blueprints and guard schedules and other important intel. He's really done his homework this time. She doesn't want to think too hard about what that means.

"Excellent," he says. "Virus bitch is going down."

*

It's a good plan. For all the shit that she gives him, Alec is as brilliant as any X5 she's known, with the experience and training to back up his bragging. And they've been working together a while now, know each other's quirks and tells and habits. So it's not _really_ his fault when the whole thing goes sideways and they end up pinned down behind an overturned eighteen-wheeler when Ames White's freaky cult people show up and start spraying bullets around.

"Some rescue," X5-151 says while Max picks the lock on her shackles. She narrows her eyes and nods once. "Guess I shouldn't expect much from an oh-niner."

"Oh not this shit again," Max mutters. 

"You could go with the Familiars," Alec calls over his shoulder while he reloads his gun, "see how they treat you."

151 huffs. "You're 494, right?"

"Alec," he says. "Yeah."

"Okay," 151 says. "Call me Rhonda." She jerks her head at the X6, who's been silent the whole time, though she shoots with a deadly accuracy and calmness that makes Max's heart ache. "This is Dora."

Alec's grin is wide and toothy as he tosses Rhonda an extra gun now that her hands are free. "Help me, Rhonda."

"If I had a dollar for every time I've heard that," she says, rolling her eyes, and despite everything, Max laughs.

"He makes a lousy first impression," she says when Rhonda glances at her, "but you get used to him eventually."

"Aw, Maxie, you say the nicest things." He waits a beat, then another, then says, "I think they're out of ammo. Let's make a run for it."

Their bikes are stashed a few blocks away, and Max takes to the rooftops, counting on the others to follow, while Alec brings up the rear, picking off what's left of the Familiars as they go. Sirens wail in the distance, but Max has no intention of getting caught. Once they reach the bikes, they'll be home free.

It's a little closer cut than that, but the ride is exhilarating, and they make it back to TC in one piece. Mostly. 

"You got yourself shot again," Max says, looking at the bloody rip in Alec's jeans.

"Just a graze," he says, scowling and picking at the frayed threads on his thigh. "I really liked these jeans, too."

"Your life is the hardest," Max says drily as they head to the command center to check in and get the newbies set up.

"It is," he agrees sunnily. "I'm so glad you think so too."

For that, she thwaps the back of his head. Gently, though. He _is_ injured, and she's not the heartless bitch everyone thinks she is.

It takes Rhonda a few days to settle in, and then there's the familiar round of blood tests and waiting as she works on ways to cure the virus, or at least vaccinate Logan against it somehow.

"Have you called him?" Alec asks as they sit in the lab and wait for Rhonda to report back. "Let him know his happy ending's just around the corner?" His voice is a mix of sarcasm and longing, and Max remembers the look on his face when he'd told her about Rachel Berrisford, how he'd lost that happy ending and it had almost broken him completely. But it hadn't. She knows what broken looks like, remembers Ben, too, before he'd died, though she doesn't see his face anymore when she looks at Alec. Alec, who'd survived losing his first love and whatever Manticore did to him in the aftermath, and everything else life had thrown at him. Who had brought her this potential cure.

"Thank you," she says, giving his hand a squeeze. "You didn't have to do this."

"You know I did," he replies, looking away. The silence stretches for a moment, and then he says, "You didn't answer the question."

It's her turn to look away, and his turn to give her hand a comforting squeeze. "I didn't want to get his hopes up if it's all for nothing."

"Max--"

"I mean, we're not even like that anymore." She's said it a million times, but this time, she knows it's true. She shrugs a shoulder uncomfortably, but it's easier to say these things when she doesn't have to look at Alec's face, meet that clear green gaze that sees much more than he ever lets on. "Whatever we were, it's over--it's _been_ over, and maybe we just couldn't see it." She shakes her head. "Not because he's normal and I'm superpowered," her smile is bitter and the words taste like ashes, "but because the timing just isn't right. We had a short window, and it did what windows do--it closed."

"Yeah," Alec says. He's still holding her hand, and she's letting him. "You know what they say, Max. When a window closes--"

"A door opens." She sniffs. "Yeah, I know."

He raises her hand to his mouth and presses a warm kiss to the back of it. Her skin tingles and not just because new runes start appearing where his lips had been. Then he lets go and stands up.

"Well, this door is open," he says, "whenever you're ready." 

She can't help the soft laugh that escape her. "Good to know," she says. "I might just take you up on that." He's making it easy for her, and she appreciates that more than she can ever say.

He gives her a hopeful half-grin. "You don't even have to knock."

She swats at him playfully. "You're terrible."

"You love it."

She laughs outright this time. "You know what, Alec? Maybe I do."

He opens his mouth and then closes it again. Rhonda comes out of her office and Alec leaves with a wave. He's finally learned to make a tactical retreat, Max thinks, before she turns to Rhonda for an answer.

*

[four.]

Three weeks later, when Rhonda finally synthesizes the cure, Max sends it to Logan with a note and an apology. She can't give him anything else anymore.

Alec shows up at Max's apartment that night with a six-pack of PBR and floor plans for Mezheritsky Jewelers.

"They launder money for the Bratva," he says with a gleeful grin. "My plan is kind of risky, but you and me? I think we can pull it off."

"Okay," she says. "I trust you."

For once, Alec is speechless. It's a good look, she thinks, curling a hand in the front of his shirt so she can reel him in for a kiss. They can go over the details later. Right now, she wants to walk through this door before it closes.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Ani DiFranco.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [with cake in your pocket [podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17595254) by [aethel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aethel/pseuds/aethel)




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